Dangerous

“Eva, slow down!”

The bar was more crowded than usual, full of people ready to celebrate the end of their week and waiting to catch the band of the week. The lead singer-slash-guitarist crooned into the microphone, her short black hair swung wildly each time she pulled away to strum her guitar. The drummer was shirtless, and it was easy to see how hot he was under the stage lights; each time he moved, droplets of sweat flew from his chest and arms. The crowd was loving it, and it was getting more and more difficult to move through the venue.

Ali reached out and grabbed my shoulder, using it to pull her body between two large men who were blocking her path. I grabbed her by the hand and tugged her towards the bar. The crowd was a few people deep, but they were pressed up against one another and it was going to be hard to push our way to the front. Alice threaded her arm through my elbow while we waited for our turn.

“Who’s idea was it to come here again?” I yelled over the music, leaning forward and checking both ends of the bar to see if there was room anywhere. People just seemed to be forcing their way in wherever they could. I tucked my hair behind my ear with my free hand, trying to spot a free space to slide in.

“Look, someone needed to write the review, and you need a night out,” Ali scolded me, bouncing from foot to foot. “I have to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

The song ended abruptly, then the band started playing something less aggressive. The crowd seemed to calm with the change in music. It was Ali’s fault that we were crammed like sardines into the bar, she’d volunteered me to write a review on the night — a job that was below my pay grade. Ali and I were close but she was much more of a positive person than me, constantly pushing me to do things and volunteering me for jobs I had no interest in doing. But she was a lot of fun to be around. Ali and I had been friends since we were kids, and we’d remained close despite the adventures that had taken us along separate paths. We even went to the same university and earned our degrees in journalism.

I spied the ladies’ room at the end of the bar and pointed her in that direction. “You go, I’ll get our drinks,” I let go of her hand and Ali nodded at me, raising her hand in a mock salute and bouncing off towards the bathroom, her long, curly ponytail bouncing up and down as she went. I spotted a tiny gap in the crowd around the bar, just large enough to get myself into, and I stepped forward. Unfortunately for my backside, someone else had the same idea, and our bodies collided. The crowd around me dispersed as I fell flat on my ass with an ‘oof’. The floor was sticky under my palms, and I wasn’t sure I cared to know why. I was trying to climb back to my feet when a hand shot down into my line of sight.

“Here, let me help you, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” The hand was attached to a muscular forearm, decorated with tattoos. I looked up into his face, shielded in dim light, and our eyes met as I took his hand. My breath caught in my chest and I felt my heart in my throat. His hair was cropped close to his head, but longer on top combed into a messy quiff which was partially covered with a grey slouched beanie. He had a scruffy, but neatly groomed beard, a silver ring in his left nostril glinted in the low light. Damn.

He was hot. Really hot.

His skin was calloused and rough, but warm. His long, lean fingers caressed the palm of my hand, and he pulled me back to my feet, slipping my body in front of his so that I was pressed against the bar. I could feel his muscles pressed against my back and smell the cologne he was wearing, pine and sandalwood. People around us continued to push their way through, so he braced his arms on the wooden top of the bar on either side of my body, caging me in, trying to keep anyone from squeezing between the two of us. I could feel his breathing on the back of my neck and I swore that he dipped his head to smell my hair. The tattoos disappeared under the sleeves of his black v-neck. I forgot anything but the two of us as my eyes traced the outline of an octopus tentacle that curled its’ way around his wrist. A sinking wooden ship floated above it. I jumped when the bartender waved his hand in front of my face.

“Two tequila, lime, and soda,” I held up two fingers and he nodded curtly, turning to pick up a lime and taking two glasses down from a shelf behind the bar.

“Either you’ve been sent to brave the bar by yourself, or you’re celebrating something.” His low voice flooded my ear, trying to speak over the music that was drowning out everything around us, hot breath on my neck. I shivered, my eyes closed and my throat dried out before I turned to face him to ask him to back up a little. His rich cinnamon eyes twinkled, reflecting the lights that hung low over the bar, and I found myself unable to come up with a response, simply blinking at him and turning my mouth up at the corners. He raised an eyebrow expectantly when I opened and shut my mouth a few times, like some kind of inept goldfish.

Smooth, Eva. Now he thinks you’re an idiot.

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to rid myself of the embarrassment, “I’m the group hero. Eva. Hammond. Eva Hammond,” I laughed nervously.

“Okay…” he nodded slowly, his eyebrows raising to express his regret at engaging with me. I made a mental note never to speak to an attractive man again. “Well, Eva Hammond, I’m Conner Chase. Do you need a hand getting those drinks back to your friends?” I couldn’t help but wonder if he was asking because he now thought that I was deeply uncoordinated and may injure myself or someone else with such a simple task.

Just over his shoulder, I could see Ali squeezing back through the crowd and I picked up our drinks, slapping some cash down on the bar. “I’m good, thank you. Maybe I’ll see you.” I chuckled humourlessly at my pathetic attempt at socialising as he lifted his arm for me to duck underneath.

“Who was that?” Ali asked, giving him a sideways glance as I handed her one of the drinks in my hand. She took a sip, keeping her eyes trained on Conner and I shook my head at her.

“Nobody that’s ever going to speak to me again.” I grabbed her free hand and the two of us squeezed back through the crowd to our table. Jacob was waiting for us, he perked up when we came back. Jacob, another longtime friend and our third wheel to events just like this, had remained close with us throughout university and into adulthood.

“I was sure I was going to lose you guys for good.” He tossed back another swig from the bottle in his hands and then set it down on the table. The band on stage kicked into another high-energy anthem, and the singer’s cigarette-smoke voice made the crowd even rowdier. Ali and I quickly took our seats. The notepad I’d brought to take notes for the band review sat empty in front of my stool, save for a few swirly doodles. The writer who was supposed to cover the show had called in sick at the last minute, offering Ali the chance to volunteer my services for the evening so that she could attend too.

I’d kicked her under the table when she said it, and she’d stuck her tongue out at me as soon as our boss left our office.

“Jacob, we would never desert you, how would we get home?” Ali nudged him playfully, tapping her other hand on the tabletop along with the music.

I finished my drink as I jotted down some notes about the show, this stuff was mostly ass-kissing anyway. I’d seen them play live before, and they consistently played a good show. I had remembered when I was younger, growing up in San Diego, wishing that my friends would start a band so that we’d have something to do, instead of sitting around in Ali’s brother’s treehouse and smoking pot. Of course, I couldn’t play an instrument and I would have needed several thousands of dollars of singing lessons. Still, a young punk girl growing up in Southern California sounded like a great opening line for a biography I might write one day.

Jacob got up to go to the bar for us a few more times while Ali and I collaborated on some points about the gig but our designated driver was finding it hard to put the brakes on his drinking, and even harder to avoid the ladies.

Eventually, the band finished their set, putting down their instruments and dispersing into the crowd. Those who were interested in chatting to them stayed around but a great deal of the crowd left the venue quickly.

I put my pen down and yawned, “Oh god, I’m exhausted.”

“Luckily you have the day off tomorrow, right?” Ali raised her eyebrows in an I-don’t-feel-the-slightest-bit-sorry-for-you expression.

“Listen here, you. I would be coming into the office if you hadn’t volunteered me to interview a hair metal band in Arizona in the hope that you might be able to join me! You sign me up to do this stuff all the time, and you can never come with me because you can’t manage your own calendar!” I pointed a finger at her in mock anger, trying to stifle a laugh.

“You’ll enjoy the drive without me,” she laughed, throwing her arm around my shoulders. Jacob was a few feet away, in deep conversation with a pretty blonde girl. She was definitely interested in what he was saying and very ready to join us on our ride home.

“What are you still doing here, Eva Hammond?” Conner sidled up to our table, flanked by another guy with dark shaggy hair, dressed in jeans and a muscle shirt. Now that the lights had come up a little, it was easier to see the angles of Conner’s face, the lean muscle on his body, and the tattoos decorating almost every inch of exposed skin. God damn, I’m going to climb that like a tree.

“I could ask you the same question,” my eyes met his, feeling much more confident than I did during our last encounter due to the companionship of my friends, even if one of them was currently meeting his future wife.

“I asked you first, princess,” he smirked mischievously, winking at me.

“I’m a content editor for Louder, our reviewer for tonight backed out last minute and left us with nobody to write this gig up,” I gestured to Ali, who was very obviously staring down the guy who had accompanied Conner to our table like she was on death row and he was her last meal. “This is Ali, she’s our editor of photography. Now, back to you. A bunch of metalheads hanging out at a dive bar doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He seemed mildly taken aback by my assertion, but his face recovered quickly. “I own the firm doing security for the show. This is Max, my assignment director.” Conner hooked his index finger around to point at the guy with the shaggy hair, who was equally as distracted by Ali. “And I like metalheads.”

“Assignment director? What does that mean?” Ali mustered up her flirtiest voice as she directed her question to Conner’s right-hand man. The two of them began chattering with each other, and Ali linked her arm through his elbow as they headed to the bar for another drink.

“So, you’re the security guy, huh? Why aren’t you in those visibility vests?” I teased, gesturing to a big burly dude near the front door.

Conner chuckled and let out a sigh. “I don’t usually work events, I have much more important assignments I need to take care of. The singer is my best friend’s girlfriend.” He angled his head towards a woman with black hair, cut into a blunt bob, with a blood-red pout and a vintage sweater on top of jeans. She had her arms draped around the neck of the singer from the band, they were kissing. “I’m offering support,” Conner finished.

“What a guy.” I rested my chin on my hands and smiled up at him wistfully. My intention had been playful but it had clearly betrayed the puddle forming in my underwear. He was cute and he wasn’t afraid to show support for his friends.

“You’d better be kind to them in that review.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Lola is fragile about her band, and Meredith will end me if she finds out I let you write up an article that was less than stellar.”

“Don’t worry, we only have good things to say about these guys.” I ran my hand through my long, vibrant red hair, brushing it back off my face. I watched his eyes follow my arm, his gaze made my stomach knot, his eyes pausing on my skin as he looked over the cameo tattoo on my upper arm. “So, you own the company. That sounds like an awesome job, do you guys handle other kinds of security?” His stare made my belly warm and I needed to keep him talking to keep those dangerous eyes moving.

“We have contracts for a whole bunch of things. We do events, commercial contracts, and private security…” He shrugged as his voice trailed off. “Private investigations, political entourage, anything you need a scary man or woman for.”

“You must be busy.” I tore my eyes away from his, trying to soothe the burning in my cheeks under his gaze. Instead, I watched Ali and Max over at the bar. The crowd had dispersed and they were able to order a lot easier. Conner sat on the stool that Ali had vacated.

“It’s why I need Max.” He nodded at the two of them. “We work on higher priority and higher clearance assignments, but he also decides who works on which assignment. I’m far too busy securing new clients and investors.”

“So are you like, a spy?” I asked, laughing at my own joke.

“That’s classified.” He smirked, nudging me with his elbow. I hadn’t noticed her approach but the girl with the black bob came over and slung her arm around Conner’s neck. He slipped his arm around her waist. “Meredith, this is Eva. I saved her from being trampled at the bar.” He flashed a proud smile.

“Eva, I’m Meredith. Don’t listen to a word he says. It’s all a lie.” Meredith smiled warmly, leaning over to shake my hand.

“I knew he couldn’t possibly be friends with someone as gorgeous as you.” I laughed, taking her offered hand and shaking it.

“It’s so nice to meet you, don’t let this moron lead you astray.” She let go of my hand and turned to Conner. “We’re going to get out of here, Lola has a thing…”

“Sure, call me when you get home.” Conner planted a kiss on her temple, squeezing her shoulder before he let go of her and turned to wave at Lola, who was hovering a short distance away. Meredith held her palm up to me in farewell, then spun around and strode out next to her girlfriend.

“Hey.” Ali was back with a drink for me, Max also handed a beer to Conner. “Jacob had to go, he met a girl.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Jacob,” I said sarcastically. “I wish he’d waited. I have to get going soon, Ali. I’m so tired, and I have to get up early to drive out to Phoenix alone.”

“You really think he wanted to drive you home with some little hottie all over him?” Ali scoffed, downing her own drink.

“Phoenix?” Conner inquired.

“She’s covering for yet another writer, she has to interview that band Through Ruin tomorrow afternoon in Phoenix,” Ali explained, avoiding my glare.

“You’re driving?” Conner turned back to me. I nodded slowly and he let out a low whistle. “That’s a long way. I hated doing that drive when I was just starting out.” Ali and I stared at him blankly. “I have two offices in Arizona, one in Tucson, one in Scottsdale,” he added.

“I’m spending the night there, it’s too far to drive back,” I shrugged, staring into my now empty glass. “Louder is paying, so I’m going to order a pizza and watch movies in the hotel all night.”

“Anyone going with you?” He perked up a little.

I shook my head. “The band already had their photoshoot with Ali when they were here but we had to reschedule the interview.” I gestured across the table, where Ali and Max were now engaged in a conversation again. “So, no need for a photographer, just me and my little recorder,” I yawned, stretching my arms over my head. “I really should get going.” I picked up my bag from the back of the chair and slid off the stool, smoothing out my tight black jeans, and dumping my notepad into my bag.

“How are you getting home?” Conner got to his feet as well, preparing to say goodbye.

“I’ll walk, I’m not that far from here.” I slipped my leather biker jacket on and hooked my bag over my shoulder.“Ali, are you going to be okay to get home?” I came around the table and squeezed her shoulders, distracting her from the conversation with Max.

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Max grinned.

“Call me when you do,” I muttered to Ali, kissing her cheek and turning to back to Conner to say goodbye and possibly ask for his number.

“I’ll walk with you, I’d feel much better if I knew you got home okay,” he cut me off as I opened my mouth to speak.

“I’ll be fine,” I chuckled. “I do this walk all the time.”

“Security is my job, let me.”

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes in mock protest. “But if you keep rescuing me, I’m going to have to pay you back and I have too much debt as it is,” I smiled, pushing open the heavy door and walking out into the night. The two of us started the walk back to my apartment. Winter was over, but the cold night air still turned our breath into steam as we walked. We were silent for a while, only the sounds of our footsteps on the concrete and the occasional passing car broke the quiet.

Conner’s hands were buried in his pockets and he kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.

“How long have you lived in San Diego?” He finally asked.

I swallowed nervously, that wasn’t a conversation I was ready to have with him. “Not long, I grew up here but I moved to the East Coast after I finished university about three years ago.”

“Move back for business or pleasure?” He smirked. I hesitated again. Ali was the only person who knew, and she was the only reason I made it back. My mind wandered back to the several missed call notifications that I’d had after our office meeting that afternoon. Byron was in prison and it was because of me. Because I hadn’t had another option to escape him. But that hadn’t stopped his harassment. It started with letters, several letters a week. Then the calls came. His family had money, a lot of it, so he could afford the best legal representation in the country. The kind that negotiated a B felony down to a D, and a minimum sentence in prison with privileges, and guards who could be easily bought off to smuggle things in. This meant that Byron had access to phones whenever he needed them. He also had access to private investigators who could find out anything about where I was or who I was spending time with. There was no point trying to hide, trying to change my number, my name, he’d find out and the consequences would be worse.

“My job wrapped up over there, so I came home to be with my friends and family.” I lied, folding my arms across my chest as we ambled along the street. “How about you? Have you lived here your whole life?”

“I’m from Seattle originally, moved out here when I was enlisted, ended up staying.”

“You were in the army?”

Conner nodded. “Special forces. I started the business when I was discharged and it just kind of took off. We prioritise ex-military, specifically special forces, the kind of guys who captured Saddam.” He kicked a rock and it bounced down the street, echoing off the buildings around us.

“Isn’t that dangerous? People in the military come home with all kinds of mental health problems…”

“These guys are the best of the best, but yeah, from time to time they come home with some problems. All of our crew have thorough psychological screenings as part of the hiring process, though. Some of them might be okay to work behind the scenes, so we train them in administration. Or, they have existing IT skills, so they join the cyber department.

“It really upset me to see how many soldiers came home after serving their country, only to find out that their country isn’t ready to serve them. There isn’t a whole lot of support for guys like me, who didn’t serve for twenty years. We don’t have a shortage of work available in security, so we onboard as many people as we can. I made sure that one of the first things I did was hire company psychologists to give my employees free access to treatment.” He kept his eyes ahead as we walked.

“That’s so…” I paused, trying to find the right words. “You seem to really care about these people, not many people would give back the way you’re doing.”

Conner shrugged, brushing it off. “It’s the best way to help these guys get back on their feet. It doesn’t always end perfectly, a lot of these people haven’t served long enough to get a retirement pension, and a lot of them come back with serious post-traumatic stress. I’ve had to post bail for some of them, drive them to detox, and talk them down from a ledge. It makes insurance kind of expensive.” He tried to laugh, but it came out as a jaded sigh. The wind died down as we walked farther back from the beach but I hugged my arms around my waist and shuddered. “Cold?”

“Yeah. We’re almost there, though,” I nodded, pulling my jacket tighter around my body. Conner’s eyes lingered on me before he pulled his attention away and started walking again.

“So, you’re heading out to Phoenix in the morning. What time do you leave?”

“About six,” I yawned, wishing I’d called a car to take me home. My apartment wasn’t far from the venue but the trip was much faster in a car. “You said you had offices in Tucson and Scottsdale?”

“Smaller offices, yeah. We’re still building up clientele outside of California. Right now, we’re just working smaller contracts in Arizona: business contracts, events, some protection detail…nothing like we’ve got here.” Conner’s self-assured attitude was back. My phone started vibrating in my purse while he talked and I fished it out to check the display.

Unknown number.

Byron.

I changed my number three times before I had given up, it only made him escalate when he got the new phone number from his investigator. He was always calling late at night, it must have been after 3 in the morning over there. I clicked the button to ignore the call.

“Do you need to take that?” Conner’s eyes were now focused on me, his eyebrow raised in interest.

“No. It’s not important.” I shoved my phone back in my purse as it gave one longer vibration, signaling a message.

“Are you sure? It’s almost midnight. Whoever’s calling must have something important to say.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just up here.” I changed the subject, pointing to an apartment complex halfway down the block, and Conner nodded at me silently. “Thank you for walking me, you really didn’t have to.” I turned to face him and gave a gentle smile.

“As I said, security is my job.” He smiled back, a grin that practically set my underwear on fire.

We reached the driveway of my apartment complex and I stopped, turning to face him. “This is me,” I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the awkward silence that fell over us. “Do you… want to come in?” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder, pointing to my first-floor apartment. Conner’s eyes met mine and the muscle in his jaw tensed, I dragged a deep breath in through my teeth, feeling my body temperature spike as his gaze bore into me.

He stared at me for a few more seconds, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “You have to get up early, I shouldn’t…” His voice came out in a dry whisper and he seemed reluctant to turn me down but the hit to my ego had already landed. “You’re safe from here, right?” My stomach dropped and I nodded.

“Well,” I swallowed, eating my disappointment, painting a smile on my face, and holding out my hand for him to shake. “It was nice to meet you, Conner. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“We will,” he nodded, giving me a hungry look. He didn’t release my hand but stepped forward to close the gap between us and brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. His fingers, under my chin, tilted my head up and he pressed his lips against mine. My heart slammed against my ribcage and my legs grew weak. Conner’s hand found its way into my hair, giving it a gentle tug. I moaned into his mouth, my lips parting slightly, and his tongue flicked softly against mine. He teased the same lock of my hair, tracing it down to my shoulder and rubbing his fingertip in a circle on my bare skin. He tasted like a mix of beer and vodka but I was willing to let it slide to enjoy the kiss for a little longer.

Too soon, he pulled away and pressed his forehead against mine. I could feel his breath on my lips and my legs trembled so badly that I was afraid I would lose my feet if he let me go. His hand fished around in his pocket, then a small white card appeared in front of my eyes. “Text me when you get home from Phoenix, little one.”

Conner Chase

Managing Director, Chase Security

I turned the card over, his phone number and email were printed on the back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” I offered again.

“No. You need sleep. You can’t do the drive tomorrow if you’re falling asleep at the wheel. Go on inside.” Conner raised his chin, gesturing to my apartment and letting his hands slip from my body. Immediately, the cold crept into my skin on the places his hands had been and my stomach clenched, begging for him to touch me again. I swallowed, raising my hand in a wave before I turned away and pulled out my keys, unlocking my apartment and slipping inside. But not before I looked over my shoulder to see him waiting for me to get through the door safely.